Dinner at home - A Johnlock FanFiction
by Jutta Sherlocked Holmes
Summary: After a night on the chase of a criminal and an exhausting day at the surgery, John is really angry with Sherlock. But at 221b Baker Street waits an unexpected surprise... [My first Johnlock FanFiction. I'm from germany, so please excuse possible language mistakes. Suggestions for improvements are welcome, and I'm thankful for every honest review]


As I came home from my work at the surgery, I was extremely angry with Sherlock Holmes.  
We spent the whole night running through London, chasing a dangerous criminal - once again. And, as always, my best friend decided not to phone the police, not even Lestrade - "Why should we, John? Would take away all the fun!"  
Yeah, why should we? In the end, I nearly got stabbed, and we didn't get our man! We came home and I still could barely sleep, having a restless Sherlock Holmes around who walked up and down the room and yelled for cigarettes. And after all this, I had to go to work... and so, as I returned in the late afternoon to 221b Baker Street I wasn't in a good mood.  
But then, the things were strange... different... and I had no idea what was going to happen...

I opened the front door and heard Sherlock playing the violin. It was a wonderful, light melody which I had never heard before. _Well, _I thought._ He's composing again 'cause it helps him think. Probably didn't get our man yet._  
I opened the door to our flat and entered the living room. My friend stood with his back to me, looked out of the window and played the violin. His slim, tall figure was a dark silhouette against the dim light of the dusk. As I entered the room he finished the melody and turned around slowly. "John", he said low voice, and I realized that he had waited for me. _So, now he's going to make his puppy dog face and apologize, and then he asks me to spend another night on the tracking of this criminal - just as always!_  
"Don't waste your time, Sherlock", I said with a grumpy face. My friend gave me a confused glance. "New hint, right?", I continued. "But I won't spend this night like the last one. I'm still tired, and I want to sleep!"  
For a few moments, Sherlock said nothing and simply stared at the violin in his hands. Then he cleared his throat. "That was not what I was going to... erm, I mean... I- I found a new hint, actually, but I- I called Lestrade. He already has arrested him."  
Now I was confused. "What do you mean? You had a hint and did _not_ track down this guy by yourself?!"  
"There's no fun in it without you" Sherlock answered with a slight smile. "But, erm, I still... want to apologize for-"  
"It's okay, Sherlock. Don't...", I interrupted. I wasn't angry anymore. I looked at my friend who suddenly seemed so vulnerable and insecure. "Are you... okay?"  
"Yeah, yeah, fine... well... erm... however, as an apology I thought... would you like to have dinner?"  
"Dinner?! Sherlock Holmes asks me out for dinner? You're sure that you're alright?", I laughed.  
But he didn't laugh, he just looked at me in a very strange way. I swallowed and shrugged my shoulders with a weird feeling inside my chest. "Okay, why not? I'm starving. So, where do we go?"  
Sherlock just nodded towards the kitchen. I turned around, on my lips some sassy words ("So, what are we going to eat? Human toes with some chemicals?"), but again I got a surprise: There were no chemicals on the table today, neither his microscope or body parts, but a white tablecloth and plates, wine glasses and cutlery as well. On the so long unused stove stood some saucepans.  
I didn't know what to say. I went to the kitchen, slowly, and finally sat down. Then I cleared my throat. "Sherlock... I had no idea... did you cook by yourself?"  
"Hm-hm", murmured Sherlock. "I tried. For the first time, actually. But... I wanted something special..."

Then we ate. Sherlock had made a soup and some roast meat. It way tasty, but I did not actually pay attention... I just watched Sherlock who kept his eyes down and drank his wine quickly. My heart beat loud inside my chest, and I felt like I saw my friend for the first time.  
Then we just sat there, for a very long time. Silent.  
It was me who finally said something. "Oh, Sherlock." Now he raised his glance, and we looked into each others eyes, and his were so beautiful and deep that I almost drowned in them. My thoughts went back to last night when I cursed Sherlock for his terrible ideas and those sleepless nights.  
It was all gone now.  
"Strange, isn't it?", Sherlock said. His voice was trembling. "Never thought this could happen to me... never thought I could feel anything, but... you changed me, John Watson. At first I felt friendship - never felt that before - but... now..."  
"I understand."  
Then again silence. Sherlock closed his eyes, his thin face was paler than ever, and his black curls fell on his forehead... I never thought of such things before.  
"Uh... probably... oh, forgive me... erm... I shouldn't have started that. I'm sorry, John, I'm so, so sorry-", Sherlock began, trembling, and stood up.  
"Wait!", I said and got up, too. I stretched out my hands for his and took them. I leaned forward, closed my eyes and whispered into his ear: "Sherlock Holmes. I love you."  
Slowly, he turned his face, we gave each other another glimpse - and then, suddenly, we were in each others arms and Sherlock kissed me softly. I returned the kiss and I felt so good and secure in his arms.  
Again, we didn't speak. My head leaned on Sherlock's chest, I heard his heart beating and felt his slim, powerful hands on my back.

After a while, Sherlock moved. He lifted my chin with his hand and I looked into his beautiful eyes. He smiled slightly and gave me another kiss which let me melt. I grabbed his back harder. "On to another sleepless night, John Watson?", he asked with a playful sparkle in his eyes.  
"Sherlock Holmes, beware", I responded with a grin. I pushed him back with wild kisses, through the corridor and right into his bedroom.


End file.
